


Cross-Country Kidnapping

by JustYourAverageFanboy



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternative Universe - FBI, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Enemies to Lovers, FBI!Yuuri, Kidnapping, M/M, Mafia AU, Mafia Victor Nikiforov, Rated T for Mild Language, Road Trips, Tags may be changed/added, fast burn, really weird road trip
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:07:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23797429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustYourAverageFanboy/pseuds/JustYourAverageFanboy
Summary: Yuuri is the FBI agent in charge of the Nikiforov case. It seems like every time they get close to finding the man, he's always five steps ahead and slips away.When Viktor shows up in Yuuri's apartment in the middle of the night, demanding he help Viktor find one of his men who had been kidnapped, Yuuri agrees. Maybe it's due to Yuuri's urge to bring justice whenever possible, or because of the gun aimed at his head, but the two embark on the weirdest road trip of their lives[Updates twice a week hopefully]
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 25
Kudos: 119





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is appreciated

Yuuri’s fingers flew across the keyboard as he typed a report. He blinked slowly as words appeared on the screen. He desperately needed sleep, but he was currently on duty.

He heard Phichit sigh on his end of the van. Yuuri looked over his shoulder, briefly pausing his movements. “Everything okay back there?” he asked.

Phichit nodded.

“Any new information on him, yet?”

“Nope,” Phichit replied.

Yuuri sighed and continued his work. He glanced out one of the windows at the house they parked close to. They had gotten intel that a suspicious package was to be delivered there, and that it could possibly tie to their current case.

Yuuri read over one of his reports, fixing any typos and mistakes before emailing it to a fellow agent at the bureau so they could print it out for him.

He looked out the window again just in time to see a mail truck pull up to the house they were watching. He alerted Phichit, but they remained in the van. They waited for the mailman to set the package down and leave. A few minutes later, a man appeared in the doorway and brought the package inside.

The moment the door shut, Yuuri and Phichit exited the van. Yuuri noted that all of the blinds on the windows were down. Phichit rang the doorbell, and stepped back.

Yuuri could faintly hear someone speaking, but couldn’t place what they were saying. The door opened a crack, and the same man from before poked his head through.

“Can I help you?” he asked.

Both Yuuri and Phichit held up their FBI badges. “Good afternoon, sir,” Yuuri said, pocketing his badge once the man scanned it. “My name is Agent Katsuki, and this is my partner Agent Chulanont. Is it alright if we come in?”

The man’s eyes darted between the two agents. “If you show me a warrant.”

Phichit’s eyes slid over to Yuuri, as if to ask “what now?” Yuuri simply raised his eyebrows slightly and dug into one of the pockets on his uniform. He pulled out a sheet of paper and unfolded it. He held it up for the man to see.

“Do you mind if I have a closer look?” the man asked, reaching for the paper. “So many people these days know how to forge things.” Yuuri let the man take the warrant, watching his eyes scan it. He searched for any kind of sign that would give him away.

Deeming the warrant good, the man handed it back and opened the door wide, stepping aside to let the two in. He closed the door behind them.

“When did you get a warrant?” Phichit asked, whispering closely to Yuuri.

“Always be prepared, Phichit,” Yuuri replied.

“Why, uh,” the man stammered, “why are you here?” He led the two agents over to the living room. He gestured to the couch. Yuuri and Phichit sat down.

“I’m afraid we can’t tell you much,” Yuuri explained, “but we got a tip that a suspicious package was going to be delivered here and we have reason to believe that it’s tied to a case we’re working on.”

The man swallowed. “Is that so? I’m afraid that the only package I got is from my ex girlfriend. She moved states and sent me what I had left over at her house back.”

Phichit eyed the package on the table in front of them. “Is it alright if we look through it? I’m sure it’s not what we’re looking for, but you never know.”

The man didn’t meet their eyes. “Go ahead.”

Yuuri kept staring at the man, taking in his mannerisms. He kept looking everywhere but the two agents, his leg bounced up and down. In the back of his head, Yuuri could empathize with him. He’d probably be doing the same thing if two authority figures barged into his house unannounced.

But that didn’t let Yuuri ignore just how suspicious he was acting. He glanced over at Phichit when he felt a nudge on his elbow. He looked down at the box. It was full of picture frames of the man and a woman. Phichit lifted the frames and laying there was a folded up hoodie.

Yuuri pressed down on the hoodie, and felt nothing but what he assumed was the other side of the box. He looked back at the man, who had begun typing on his phone. Phichit set the box back on the table.

Yuuri stood up, motioning for Phichit to do the same. “Well,” Yuuri began, “it seems like this has been a big mistake. Thank you for cooperating, and sorry for wasting your time.”

The man stood up. “Oh, no it’s alright.” The man’s phone pinged. He looked at it, his face contorting into an emotion Yuuri couldn’t place.

Yuuri nodded. “We’ll be on our way then.” The two agents made their way to the front door.

Yuuri’s ear twitched, and soon he had a hand on Phichit’s back forcing them both to the ground as a bullet whizzed passed them. It hit a frame in front of them. The frame fell, shattering and spreading glass everywhere. Yuuri was quick to stand and pull out his own gun, clicking the safety off and shooting at the man.

The bullet hit the wall to the man’s left, missing his arm that held the gun. The man bolted out of the living room. Yuuri pursued. He jumped over the trash can the man had pushed to slow him down. He fired another shot as the man jumped down the stairs and ran out the open sliding-glass door.

Yuuri cursed and hid behind the wall when the man aimed his gun and shot. Yuuri peaked around, gun ready, but the man had disappeared. He saw a motorcycle speed down the road, and knew there was no way they would catch up. By the time they got in their van the man would be gone.

Yuuri sighed and made his way back up the stairs. Phichit was back in the living room. He was in front of the box, taking out the frames and placing them on the counter. He let the hoodie drop to the floor and stiffened.

“Yuuri,” he said. “Come here.”

Yuuri got to his partner and looked down at the box. There was a gun inside, covering multiple small bags. The bags appeared to be filled with white powder. Yuuri closed the box and held it under his arm.

“I guess he was who we were looking for.” Yuuri turned to leave, but Phichit stopped him.

“We have that warrant, right? Let’s search the rest of the house.”

They climbed into the van after spending an hour searching the house. They found nothing aside from the box. Yuuri kept the box on his lap while Phichit drove. Within twenty minutes, they made it to the bureau.

Yuuri carried the box and Phichit walked ahead of him. Phichit held the door open and Yuuri stepped inside, thanking his partner. The two fell into silence, walking next to each other. The other agents nearby nodded at them as they passed, which they returned.

They made their way to their boss’s office. It wasn’t noon yet so he should be there and not on a lunch break. Phichit knocked on the door and opened it without waiting for the all clear.

“Ciao Ciao!” Phichit exclaimed. “We’re back.”

Celestino looked up from the many papers on his desk. “Hello Phichit, Yuuri.” He eyed the box in Yuuri’s arms. “I take it went well?”

Yuuri handed the box over to the older man. “Sort of. We got the package but he got away.”

“You remember what he looks like, yes?”

Yuuri nodded. “Yeah, we’ll be able to keep an eye out.”

Celestino smiled. “That’s good. You two have been working hard lately, staying late for days, so why don’t you go home today. If we need you I’ll ring.”

Phichit grinned and thanked the man before tugging Yuuri out of the room. “Come on, there’s this one bakery I want to try!”

A man pulled up to a warehouse, stopping his motorcycle. He stared at the building. He swallowed. He kept his head ducked as he walked into the building.

The man decided to take the long way to the main room in order to avoid the Pakhan. He was given a task, and had failed. The Pakhan was going to be furious for sure. That was their one chance to get on good terms with the Italians and he blew it. The Italians had sent over one of their most expensive guns as a truce and when they inevitably found out it had been lost, there was no way peace could be made. He may as well had insulted them to their face.

And being the Pakhan’s right hand man made it worse.

The man, much to his dismay, eventually made it to the main room. The room was bustling with activity. People were hauling boxes, speaking with the various contacts they had, or just hanging around the couches.

The Pakhan stood in the middle of it all, speaking to someone. The man noticed that Plisetsky wasn’t near the Pakhan like he usually was.

The Pakhan’s eyes slid over to the man’s when he got closer. He excused himself from the person he was speaking to. “Georgi!” Viktor called, making his way over to the man. “Where’s my package?”

Georgi swallowed, took a deep breath. “I don’t have it.”

The smile on Viktor’s face fell. “What?”

“I don’t have it, Viktor,” he repeated.

Viktor frowned. “That was a very important package, Georgi. The Italians put their trust in us.”

“I know.”

“Then tell me, Georgi,” Viktor said, “why you lost it? Why did you lose the one thing that could mean the difference between war and-”

“Because I didn’t expect the FBI to show up!” Georgi interrupted, throwing his arms out.

Everyone in the room tensed at that sentence. They looked around, at each other. All eyes landed on Viktor. Viktor’s eyes were wide, staring directly at Georgi. He glanced around at everyone before grabbing Georgi’s arm, pulling him out of the room.

“What do you mean the FBI showed up?” Viktor demanded once they got to his office.

Georgi tugged his arm away. “I mean that agent of yours showed up with a warrant. Someone gave a tip to them.”

Viktor ran a hand through his hair and started pacing. “The only people in this building are the most trusted people in the mafia. Who could have sold us out?”

Georgi shrugged. “Maybe it was the Canadians. You know we’ve been having problems with that branch lately.”

Viktor sighed. “What do the Canadians want with the Italians? They’re not even on the same continent.” He stopped his pacing, turning to look at Georgi. A sudden thought occurred to him, completely unrelated to the discussion. “Have you seen Yuri today?”

It was nearing two in the morning when Viktor received the letter. He had just gotten off the phone with the leader of the Italian branch, desperately trying to apologize and hold their truce together. It worked, or that was what Viktor thought. He wasn’t given a straight answer.

He leaned forward, placing his elbows on his desk and palms holding his forehead. He really could not screw this up.

A knock on his door threw him out of his thoughts. “Come in,” he called, sitting up and trying to not look like a mess.

The door opened, and Mila stepped in. She closed the door behind her and turned to face Viktor. She held something in her hands. “This came for you,” she said before handing it to Viktor.

Viktor took the paper. It was an envelope. Mila watched as he opened it. “Do we know who it’s from?” Viktor asked, looking up at Mila.

She shook her head. “No.”

Viktor pulled the letter out, his eyes immediately scanning it. He re-read it again, and again, making sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him. He shot up from his chair with so much force he knocked it back. It clattered to the ground.

“I’ll be back,” Viktor said as he grabbed his coat that was laying against the corner of the desk. He left the letter in a drawer.

“Where are you going?” Mila asked, following him out of the office.

“I need to talk to someone.” He hurried passed her. “Lock up my office while I’m gone.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nikiforov leaned against the small island leading to the kitchen. “Of course.” His eyes wandered around the apartment before meeting the agent’s stare. “But I can easily alert my men in Hasetsu. You wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to your parents, would you?”
> 
> Yuuri growled, ready to retort, but his voice caught in his throat. He sighed, running a hand over his face. “I can and will tell the other agents about this.”
> 
> Nikiforov chuckled. Yuuri watched as one hand reached behind him, pulling out a pistol. Nikiforov had it pointed right at his head. Yuuri heard the safety click off. “No, you won’t. You said it yourself; if I wanted you dead I should just get it over with.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is appreciated

A cold breeze was what woke Yuuri up. He shivered under his blankets, blinking the sleep away from his eyes. He frowned. He could have sworn the window was shut when he went to bed. Stretching, he stood up, keeping his blanket wrapped around his shoulders, and walked over to the window. It was indeed open. He shut it.

Now that he was up, he could tell how thirsty he was. Opening his bedroom door, he walked out and made his way to the small kitchen. He flicked on the light and went to grab a mug from the shelf. He filled it with water. As he sipped his drink, he paced the floor.

The Nikiforov case was starting to get on his nerves. It seemed like every time they got close, Nikiforov jumped ahead three spaces. Hiding his trail right before their eyes.

Yuuri sighed, leaving the kitchen. Looking up from his mug, he froze. The mug slipped out of his grasp, spilling all over the floor and luckily not shattering. He swallowed, hand instinctively reaching for a gun that wasn’t there. Yuuri cursed internally.

“What the hell are you doing in my house?” Yuuri asked.

Suddenly the open window made much more sense.

Viktor Nikiforov stood in the living room, leaning against the back of the couch. His hands were hiding in his pants pockets. There was a small smirk on his face. “What?” he asked, feigning ignorance, like he hadn’t just broken into someone’s home, “can’t I visit my favorite agent?”

Yuuri knelt down to pick up the mug. He’d get a towel later. “If you’re here to kill me, get it over with.”

Nikiforov scoffed. “Please. If I wanted to kill you, it’d have been done a long time ago.”

Yuuri set the mug on the counter. “Then why are you here?” The silver-haired man ignored him, choosing to wander around the living room, looking at the decor and photos.

“This is a beautiful painting,” Nikiforov said, stopping at one of the landscape paintings hanging on the wall. He ran his fingers against the frame. He glanced at the agent. “I have the original, you know.”

Yuuri rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. “I’m sure. Now if you don’t give me a reason you’re here, I’m waking Phichit and getting my gun.”

Nikiforov huffed. “You’d do that anyway.” He backed away from the painting. “I have a proposition.”

“What makes you think I’d do anything for you?”

“Your parents.”

Yuuri’s blood went cold. “What?”

The criminal stepped around the couch. He put his hands back in his pockets as he made his way over to the agent. “I have contacts all over the world. Including that little Yu-Topia.”

Yuuri swallowed. Stepped back.

Amused, Nikiforov stepped forward. Yuuri didn’t move, no matter how hard he felt his hands shake. He wouldn’t give in, not to whatever game Nikiforov was playing. “If you help me, I’ll give my contacts the order to leave Hasetsu and never go back. In fact, you help me and you can arrest the world’s greatest crime lord. Maybe.”

“Leroy?” Yuuri smirked.

The taller man’s eyes darkened. “Funny.”

Yuuri pushed him away. He walked around the man, into the living room, wanting to put as much distance between the two as he could. “What’s so important for you to require an FBI agent?”

Nikiforov sighed and ran a gloved hand through his hair. His eyes shifted around, aimed at the carpet, before settling on Yuuri. “One of my men was kidnapped. Feisty little thing. Don’t know who he pissed off.”

Yuuri raised an eyebrow. “You do know that I can arrest you for trying to blackmail an agent alone, yes?”

Nikiforov leaned against the small island leading to the kitchen. “Of course.” His eyes wandered around the apartment before meeting the agent’s stare. “But I can easily alert my men in Hasetsu. You wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to your parents, would you?”

Yuuri growled, ready to retort, but his voice caught in his throat. He sighed, running a hand over his face. “I can and will tell the other agents about this.”

Nikiforov chuckled. Yuuri watched as one hand reached behind him, pulling out a pistol. Nikiforov had it pointed right at his head. Yuuri heard the safety click off. “No, you won’t. You said it yourself; if I wanted you dead I should just get it over with.”

The muscles in Yuuri’s body tensed. He really wished he had his gun. He sighed. “Fine,” he hissed. He crossed his arms. “Where do we start?”

Nikiforov pushed himself off the counter and started moving toward the hallway that led to the bedrooms. Yuuri followed. “I’d suggest packing some clothes,” Nikiforov said over his shoulder. “You won’t be coming back here for a while.”

Yuuri wondered if that was some elaborate plan to kill him with no witnesses. Nikiforov stopped outside his bedroom, stepping aside to let the agent through. Yuuri flicked the light on. He opened the closet door and pulled out a small suitcase. Placing it on the bed, he unzipped it and walked back over to the closet. He took two hoodies, a t-shirt, and two pairs of jeans. He wasn’t sure how long he’d be forced to help the man standing near him.

He glanced over at him. Nikiforov was leaning against the doorframe, watching Yuuri’s every movement. When their eyes met, Yuuri glared and continued packing.

He rolled up the clothes for more room and leaned across the bed to grab a pillow. He stared at Nikiforov as he pulled out one of his guns. The silver-haired man raised an eyebrow.

“You really think I’m going anywhere with you without a weapon?” Yuuri asked, checking to make sure it was loaded and that the safety was on. Nikiforov didn’t respond, just watched. Yuuri rolled his eyes.

“Leave your phone.”

Yuuri jerked his head over to Nikiforov. “What?”

“You heard me. I know they have GPS or whatever in case one of their agents goes missing.”

Yuuri scowled. “My phone is on the table.” He pointed to a small table next to the front of the bed.

Nikiforov raised his eyebrows. “Prove it.”

Yuuri’s shoulders dropped. He dug into his sweatpants pocket and pulled out his phone. He tossed it onto the bed. Nikiforov snorted. Yuuri walked over to the small table and picked up his wallet. He looked through it to make sure Nikiforov hadn’t stolen anything from it. He put it in his pocket.

He reached into the drawer on the table and grabbed another handgun. He put that one in his pocket. He didn’t have his belt so it would have to do for now. Speaking of belts. He quickly went back to the closet and grabbed it, putting it in the suitcase. He zipped up the suitcase.

“Alright,” he said, grabbing it by the handle. “I guess I’m ready.”

Nikiforov nodded. He turned and walked down the hall. Yuuri scrambled to follow, holding his suitcase so it didn’t wake Phichit. They left the apartment and headed outside. Yuuri shivered. He should have grabbed a jacket. There was still snow on the ground despite it being halfway through April. The joys of the Midwest.

Nikiforov led the agent to a black BMW. Yuuri rolled his eyes. Why was he not surprised Nikiforov had an expensive car?

Nikiforov dug into one of his pockets and pulled out a long, black cloth, letting it dangle between his fingers. “Tie this around your eyes when you get in.”

Yuuri stopped. “Why?”

“Because the last thing I need is an FBI agent knowing the way to my base of activity.”

“I swear this is just a plan to kill me,” Yuuri muttered under the breath. He watched Nikiforov quirk an eyebrow. He hadn’t meant for him to hear that, but he didn’t care. He snatched the cloth out of Nikiforov’s outstretched hand. He opened the passenger door and slid in. Once the seatbelt was on, he finally lifted the cloth over his eyes and tied the ends behind his head. The tips of his fingers fiddled with the ends of the fabric. It was soft.

He heard Nikiforov get in and start the car. He crossed his arms as they started driving. He tried to keep track of the turns, but after a while it felt like Nikiforov was making random turns. There were some turns that came one after another, and the man wasn’t driving slow by any means.

By the time the car stopped, Yuuri had lost track of how many turns there were, let alone which direction. He let go of the door handle he had been gripping the entire ride. His knuckles had turned white. He reached up to take the blindfold off, but Nikiforov’s tight grip on his wrist stopped him.

“Not until we’re inside.”

Yuuri rolled his eyes even though nobody could see. He fumbled for the car door and opened it, holding on to the vehicle as he stepped out. He closed the door and felt Nikiforov grab his wrist again. He pulled him along. Yuuri had no choice but to let him.

“I’m going to remove the blindfold,” Nikiforov said once they stopped. “If you turn your head, I’ll put a bullet in it.”

“Sure.” Yuuri didn’t buy it; he didn’t hear him pull out a gun. He let the man take off the blindfold. Yuuri blinked and rubbed his eyes viciously. Black spots danced in his vision. He blinked again.

Nikiforov opened the door in front of them and stepped in, not bothering to look back and see if Yuuri was following.

The halls were silent, except for the pair’s footsteps on the concrete floor. The doors they passed were shut. There was no light except for the moon and stars shining through the windows. Yuuri wondered how Nikiforov could see with the lack of lighting. He also wondered when they’d get to wherever Nikiforov was leading him.

He tried to keep track of all the turns, but every hall appeared to be the same chipping, grey paint.

Eventually they stopped at a door at the end of one of the many halls. Nikiforov pulled out a key from his pants pocket and unlocked the door. He stepped inside and flicked on a switch. Yuuri had to squint while he waited for his eyes to adjust.

When they did, Yuuri took in his surroundings. He looked at the walls first. They were bare for the most part; one wall had a small, simple painting of a landscape. The walls itself were a darker grey than the rest of the building.

Then Yuuri looked at the objects in the room. In front of him were a long desk, cluttered with papers and folders, a white couch in front of it, and two bookshelves in the corners of the wall by the door.

Nikiforov stepped behind the desk and opened a drawer. He pulled out a sheet of paper.

“I got this a few hours ago,” he said, sliding the paper across the desk.

Yuuri took a seat on the couch and picked up the paper. The handwriting was sloppy. Yuuri squinted and held the paper close.

“Why are you doing that?” Nikiforov asked, hands in his pockets.

“Forgot my glasses,” Yuuri replied, not bothering to look up.

“How do you forget something so essential?”

Yuuri fought the urge to roll his eyes. “Didn’t realize that I’d be held at gunpoint and taken from my house. Now shut up and let me read.”

Nikiforov said nothing, so Yuuri read.

_Dear Viktor_

_guess who? i'd give you a hint but i know you CAn figure it out. i'm sure you've found out that your kitten has gone missing. if you want him back, come to the address hidden in this letter. better hurry, he Sure is a Fiesty thing. my men would enjoy cutting up his Face. you have 10 days from the moment you get this letter_

Yuuri flipped over the paper. There was no address. That meant it had to be in the writing itself. Yuuri scanned the paper again, looking for anything out of place.

Immediately he saw the capital letters. C, A, S, F. It didn’t spell anything, so that obviously wasn’t right.

C, A. CA? California?

The letter did mention an address, and seeing those letters together did make sense.

SF could either mean San Francisco or San Fernando. There were two F’s, which could be referencing how San Francisco was both a city and a county. It could also be referring to how San Fernando was roughly 2 square miles big, but Yuuri found that hard to believe. Nobody just had that knowledge.

Yuuri looked up at Nikiforov, who had started staring out the large window behind the desk. He set the paper down.

“I know where he is.”

Nikiforov’s head snapped over to Yuuri. “You do?”

“San Francisco. Maybe, that’s the only thing you have to go on. Whoever sent you the letter didn’t provide an actual address though. So you’re still going in blind.”

Nikiforov waved him off. “Yes, yes, I’m aware but- wait what?” He furrowed his eyebrows. “What do you mean I’m going in blind? You’re coming with.”

Frowning, Yuuri stood up. “I thought I was just helping you locate him.”

“Yes, but you haven’t actually located him. You just stated the general area.”

“So?”

Nikiforov grinned. “So, you’re coming to California with me.”

Yuuri crossed his arms. “There is no way in hell I’m going anywhere with you.”

Nikiforov clicked his tongue. “Remember your parents, agent Katsuki. Now, I’ll show you where you’ll be staying for the night, and in the morning we’ll leave.”

The man snatched the paper from the desk and walked around, catching Yuuri’s gaze as he moved passed him. He stopped in front of the door. “Come on, we only have nine days so we better hurry.”

Yuuri muttered in Japanese, but followed the criminal. The door Nikiforov led him to wasn’t that far from the previous room. It was only a hall and a right turn down. Nikiforov pulled out a different key and unlocked the door.

He pushed it open and stepped aside for Yuuri. Yuuri glared at the man and walked inside. The room wasn’t much; just a bed, a corner couch, a small table by said couch, a bookshelf, and a window.

Yuuri couldn’t help but ask, “What’s to stop me from running away after you leave?”

Nikiforov chuckled. “You won’t.”

Before Yuuri could ask what that meant, he heard the door shut. He spun around. Nikiforov was gone. The agent rushed to the door, turning the knob and pulling. It wouldn’t budge. He was locked in. Turning, he ran over to the window. It appeared to be just glass with no way to open it.

Yuuri walked over to the bookshelf and grabbed the biggest book. When he got back to the window, he raised his arms and slammed the book down on the glass. Not so much as a crack. He kept at it, though. If he could at least crack it there was a chance.

His arms grew tired, his breathing increased. He thought of his parents. Of how Nikiforov kept threatening them. His throws got weak as he thought of his mom’s katsudon. He closed his eyes as he thought of his dad and sister. He gave one last attempt before letting the book fall from his fingers.

Exhaustion finally set in, and Yuuri forced himself over to the bed. He crawled in, dragging the surprisingly soft blanket over his freezing body. With all the chaos that happened, he hadn’t realized he was still in his shorts and a t-shirt.

He curled in on himself. He didn’t want to fall asleep in case something happened. He had no idea how old this building was, the floor could fall apart any second. Or Nikiforov could come back for whatever reason.

He needed to stay vigilant.

Sleep won in the end.


	3. Chapter 3 - Day 1 Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He was cut off by Katsuki’s laughter. He narrowed his eyes. “Care to tell what is so funny in this situation?”
> 
> Katsuki snorted. “For a mafia leader you sure are stupid.” He held up his hand, silencing Viktor before he could retort. “Because of my job, I’m able to bring guns on planes. But you can’t. And I’m sure you don’t want to part with your weapons because that gives me the advantage over you. And none of us have access to a private plane, I’m assuming? At least I don’t, not without alerting the other agents. And you’ve made it clear that’s not what you want.”
> 
> Viktor groaned, running a hand through his hair. Being stuck on a plane with any agent, not just Katsuki, would be bad, but driving? That was worse. Viktor almost called it off right then and there, wanting to drive the man back to his house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is appreciated

Viktor pulled his phone away from his ear and hung up, pocketing the device. His dog sitter should arrive sometime that morning after he left.

He looked up from where his eyes were trained on the floor. Makkachin lay on her spot on the couch, tail thumping against the cushions and tongue hanging out. Viktor cooed at her and knelt down so he leaned his chest against the arm of the couch. Makka yipped and Viktor pet her head, running his fingers through her fur.

“I hate leaving you, Makka,” Viktor mumbled into the dog’s fur. “But it’s serious. The dog sitter will be here soon, I know you like her.”

Makka licked Viktor’s face. Viktor sighed, resting his forehead against the dog’s snout. “I just hope he’s okay.”

Reluctantly, the man stood up. He watched Makka whine before spinning around and laying down. Her eyes followed Viktor as he went to his room. He had already packed what he thought he’d need. At least five changes of clothes, his wallet with as much cash he could carry (and a card he may or may not have gotten legally), two pistols, his phone and charger, computer and charger, and a pair of earbuds in case that agent got on his nerves.

Makka had fallen asleep by the time he came out of his room. Viktor gave her one last pat on the head, her ears twitching. He sighed and made his way towards the front door. He glanced over at Makka’s food dish, making sure it had enough. Then looked at the water dish.

Viktor groaned, knowing he was stalling. The note said ten days, but he really didn’t want to be anywhere near an FBI agent, Katsuki or not. Viktor took a breath and headed out of the apartment, suitcase rolling behind him. Once the door was locked, he began the short walk down the hall and stairs.

The sun wasn’t high in the sky yet, but the bright light blinded Viktor briefly all the same. He squinted and held a hand up to shield himself. His car was luckily parked out front, so he didn’t have to worry for too long. He put his suitcase in the trunk with Katsuki’s.

He climbed into the driver’s side and started the vehicle. As he pulled out of the parking lot, his stomach rumbled. So instead of turning left in the direction of the warehouse, he went right. There was a gas station nearby.

He glanced down. He needed gas too.

He got to the gas station and quickly filled his tank, heading inside to pay. He swiped up a box of donuts on his way to the register. He handed the cashier the box and the cash needed. Once paid, he thanked her and left.

He placed the donuts in the passenger seat and headed for the warehouse. As he sat at a red light, his mind flashed back to last night. How had Katsuki figured out where Yura was so fast? Doesn’t it usually take at least a day? That’s how it was in the dramas, at least. But that wasn’t a drama, that was real life.

Either the kidnapper had made it easy on purpose. Or maybe this was a set-up by the FBI themselves.

Viktor shook his head. The FBI wouldn’t commit a crime just to catch one man.

Would they?

No matter the case, Viktor still had to get Yura back. Even if it meant siding with the enemy.

Viktor arrived at the warehouse fifteen minutes later. He turned off the car and hopped out, deciding to use the back entrance. At this time of day, there would be people wandering around and the last thing he wanted was for them to spot an agent. Especially one they all knew the face of.

He had put Katsuki in the back rooms just for that reason. They could get out with nobody noticing. Hopefully.

Viktor walked through the empty halls. The only sound was his shoes echoing off the walls. As VIktor approached the room Katsuki was in, he dug in his pants pocket and pulled out a ring of keys. He flipped through each one until he got to the one that unlocked the door in front of him.

Door unlocked, he pushed it open and stepped into the room. The first thing he noticed was the open book near the window. Viktor sighed and bent down to pick it up. The book was in a language he didn’t understand. Why they had that book, he had no idea. He placed it back in its spot on the bookshelf.

The second thing he noticed was that Katsuki was still sleeping. Viktor looked down at his watch. It was nearing eleven. He had wanted to leave sooner but Makkachin had been extra clingy that morning and of course he couldn’t say no to the Puppy Eyes.

Viktor stood at the side of the bed. He leaned forward and shook Katsuki by the shoulder. The man startled awake, eyes shooting open and fingers wrapping around Viktor’s wrist. He twisted it sharply to the left. Viktor bent down to relieve some of the pain.

Katsuki made eye contact with Viktor and, after a minute, let go of his wrist. Viktor pulled away, rubbing his skin. Katsuki had left red prints around it. He glared at the man as he sat up and rubbed his eyes.

“That hurt,” Viktor said. Katsuki just shrugged. “No matter. We need to get going now. I booked us a flight to-”

He was cut off by Katsuki’s laughter. He narrowed his eyes. “Care to tell what is so funny in this situation?”

Katsuki snorted. “For a mafia leader you sure are stupid.” He held up his hand, silencing Viktor before he could retort. “Because of my job, I’m able to bring guns on planes. But you can’t. And I’m sure you don’t want to part with your weapons because that gives me the advantage over you. And none of us have access to a private plane, I’m assuming? At least I don’t, not without alerting the other agents. And you’ve made it clear that’s not what you want.”

Viktor groaned, running a hand through his hair. Being stuck on a plane with any agent, not just Katsuki, would be bad, but driving? That was worse. Viktor almost called it off right then and there, wanting to drive the man back to his house.

But he really needed to get Yura back safely, and an agent would be able to do that. Viktor had no idea who could have taken him, and he didn’t want to come back with any injuries on the 16-year-old.

If only he could have contacted the FBI and let them deal with it. But they’d want to ask questions, want to meet him. They knew his face. They’d arrest him immediately.

“Fine,” he muttered. “Then get up. I need to cancel that flight and get you out undetected.”

While the back rooms were usually left alone, they were considered storage rooms so sometimes people had to get into them.

Katsuki nodded and stood up, raising his arms above his head in a stretch. Viktor watched as a sliver of stomach was revealed. He quickly looked away. Katsuki lifted an eyebrow but remained silent. Viktor headed towards the door and poked his head out, looking around to make sure no one was there.

He fully opened the door and stepped out, reaching back to grab Katsuki and shove him in front. Katsuki gasped in surprise and looked over his shoulder, glaring at Viktor. Viktor ignored him, closing the door and locking it. Facing Katsuki, he pushed him, urging him to move faster.

“Viktor!”

Both men froze. Viktor inhaled and spun around. “Mila! What are you doing here?”

Mila opened her mouth to reply, but caught sight of Katsuki. Her expression changed instantly, frown deep on her face. “What is he doing here?” she asked in Russian.

Viktor swallowed. “I know it looks bad-” Mila scoffed and rolled her eyes. “-but he’s helping me. Remember that note?”

Mila nodded, still not taking her eyes off of Katsuki, who was looking anywhere but the two people in front of him. “What about it?”

“Yura’s missing. And I need him,” Viktor gestured to Katsuki, “to help me. I was given ten days, and we only have one lead and it might not even be right.”

Mila crossed her arms. “You trust him?”

“Of course not, but I can’t exactly alert the FBI and I have him silenced for the time being.”

Mila’s eyes darted between the two men. She sighed. “The only reason I’m not stopping you is because I’m in no position to do so. Just. . . Be careful.”

Viktor nodded, and turned away. He heard Mila’s footsteps grow farther away. He ushered Katsuki down the hall again. The man stumbled over his shoes and shot a glare towards Viktor.

Sunlight hit their faces. Katsuki closed just eyes tightly, letting Viktor grab his arm and pull him along. He let Katsuki get himself into the car. Once buckled up, the man turned to Viktor and asked, “Can we stop at my apartment for my glasses? Can’t be of much help if I can barely see.”

Viktor sighed, nearly rolling his eyes. With a quick glance at his watch, he nodded. “But I’m going with.”

Katsuki _did_ roll his eyes. “Whatever.”

The drive to Katsuki’s apartment was silent; Viktor focusing on the road, and Katsuki facing the window. The moment they got to the apartment complex, Katsuki unbuckled and stormed out of the vehicle. Viktor hadn’t even parked yet.

He scowled, turning off the engine and following the agent into the building. He jogged up to him, slowing to a walk on his side. He couldn’t have him contacting anyone.

Wait.

Viktor grabbed Katsuki’s elbow, pulling him back. The man yelled, stumbling on his feet. Viktor pushed him against the wall.

“Your roommate,” Viktor said. “He’s not home, is he?”

Katsuki yanked his arm back, massaging the joint. “That depends on the time.”

“11:30.”

“Then he’s not. We never come home for lunch.” Katsuki shoved Viktor away. He stopped at his door. Patted his shorts. “I don’t have my keys.”

“What do you mean you don’t have your keys?”

Katsuki turned around. “I mean,” he crossed his arms, “that keys were the last thing on my mind while being kidnapped.”

Viktor groaned, raking a hand through his hair. He stared at the ground, in thought. His eyes darted up to Katsuki. “How badly do you need those glasses?”

Katsuki just stared.

Viktor sighed. “Fine. Fine, fine. Scoot over.”

Katsuki didn’t have time to react before Viktor had pulled out a small allen wrench and a paperclip. He knelt down and inserted the wrench into the bottom part of the key hole, turning the lock slightly.

“Why do you have-?”

Viktor silenced him with a look that clearly asked, _Are you really asking that?_ Viktor went back to work. After a few minutes, a click was heard. Viktor grinned and stood up, pocketing the tools. “Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to.” He pushed the door open and stepped aside to let the agent in.

Katsuki muttered under his breath, too quiet for Viktor to pick up. The two walked down the hall towards the bedroom. Viktor kept his eyes trained on the man, just in case he made a move for his phone or some other device.

Katsuki just walked over to the small table by his bed and picked up his glasses, sliding them on. He briefly looked down at his clothes and walked over to the closet. “Do you mind stepping out so I can change?”

Viktor paused. He could, he should. Morally he wanted to. It wasn’t right to invade someone’s space like that.

But on the other hand, Katsuki might contact someone. Viktor couldn’t let that happen.

Katsuki sighed and rolled his eyes, pushing passed Viktor and stepping into the hallway. “I’ll change in the bathroom, then.” He slammed the door behind him. Viktor heard the lock click. “Can’t call anyone in here!”

Minutes passed, and Katsuki stepped out of the bathroom. He closed the door. He had changed into a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt. He tugged the hem of the shirt down and pushed his glasses up. “As long as you’re blackmailing me, I won’t call anyone.”

Viktor gave a curt nod. “Right.” He turned. “Let’s go.”

The car ride was silent. The two men didn’t speak. Katsuki returned to staring out the window, watching the scene go by. The only noises were the cars and Viktor’s GPS. Because they had left so late, they would have to stop in Chicago for the night.

Viktor scowled. If only they hadn’t run into Mila. If only Katsuki hadn’t forgotten his glasses. If only Viktor had resisted Makka’s sad eyes. They could have been at least an hour closer.

If only Yura hadn’t gotten into trouble, they wouldn’t be in this situation.

Viktor drummed his fingers against the steering wheel as they rolled to a stop at a red light. He glanced at the GPS. It was roughly a four hour drive to Chicago. But Chicago was a big city, and rush hour would push their time to six or seven rather than four.

And stopping for lunch would affect that as well. Viktor looked back at the discarded, empty donut box in the backseat. Viktor had gladly eaten one the moment they got in the car, but Katsuki was reluctant. He had held onto his bear claw and asked if he was stereotyping him. Because all cops eat donuts, right?

Viktor had stumbled over his words, trying to explain that wasn’t the case; and even if it was, he was an FBI agent, not a cop. But Katsuki had sent him a look that clearly said, “shut up” before he finished.

Katsuki ended up eating two donuts, mumbling that it was close to lunch as an excuse. As if Viktor could judge.

Traffic moved again, and Viktor drove on. He figured he’d drive until Katsuki complained of hunger.

He ended up driving for nearly three hours. When they reached Kalamazoo, Viktor could hear Katsuki’s stomach rumbling. However, the agent didn’t say anything. Viktor was happy to ignore it; the longer they drove, the closer they got to Yura.

But after ten minutes, it got on his nerves.

He sighed as they stopped at a light. He rested his forehead on the steering wheel. “Are you hungry?” he asked without looking at the agent.

Katsuki didn’t answer, but his stomach did for him. Viktor nodded to himself, lightly tapping the wheel and driving forward when the light turned green. He glanced around, and made a left turn, accidentally cutting off a car in the lane next to him.

“What the hell, Nikiforov!” Katsuki yelled, sitting up straight and looking at the car behind them. “You could’ve crashed.”

Viktor ignored him. He slowed down as they entered a Denny’s parking lot. He could feel Katsuki’s eyes on him. He turned off the car and opened the door, pausing to look at the agent. He raised an eyebrow. “Well?”

Katsuki huffed and pushed open his door, stepping out. He slammed the door. Viktor frowned. He could at least be careful, the car wasn’t cheap.

Viktor grimaced as they approached the front doors. Dennys wasn’t somewhere Viktor went often, in fact he couldn’t recall a single time where he stepped foot inside one. It was just much too rundown for his taste. But they didn’t exactly have the time to spend waiting around a much better establishment, and Dennys was fast.

The host looked up and grinned. “Hello!” she said, seeming way too cheerful. “Just two?”

Viktor nodded, flashing the woman a wide smile, the smile he used during negotiations with clients and contacts. “Yes, thank you.”

The host blushed at his enthusiasm and scooped up two menus, motioning for the two men to follow her. Katsuki gave Viktor a weird look.

“Booth or table?” the host asked, looking over her shoulder.

Viktor looked at Katsuki, who said, “Booth, please.” The host smiled and led the two to a clean booth. The two took a seat across from each other. The host placed the menus in front of them. “Your server will be here soon to take drink orders.”

Viktor grinned at her and thanked her, picking up his menu and scanning it. When the woman was gone, he dropped the smile and menu. It startled Katsuki, who had actually been reading his own menu, causing him to drop it as well.

“We’re stopping in Chicago for the night,” Viktor said.

Katsuki raised an eyebrow. “Why? Let’s just switch off every few hours.”

Viktor snorted. “Do you really think I trust you to drive my car while I’m sleeping? For all I know you could end up bringing me to another bureau.”

“I said before, as long as you’re blackmailing me with my parents, who are innocent I may add, I can’t do anything.”

Viktor rolled his eyes, but the annoyed expression was soon wiped off his face as their server approached.

“Hi, there,” she said, “I’ll be your server today. Can I start you off with drinks?”

“I’ll have water, please.” Viktor looked over at Katsuki.

“Lemonade, if you have it.”

The waitress nodded and scribbled on her notepad. “They’ll be out shortly.”

“Even so, I don’t trust you. I don’t know the relationship you have with your parents, what if you throw them under the bus?” Viktor continued when the waitress left.

“If you trust me so little, why was I the one you dragged along? If anything, I shouldn’t trust you! And I don’t. You’re the one forcing me across the country for one person.”

Viktor was about to snap back, but their drinks arrived. Katsuki sipped his drink, avoiding Viktor’s eyes.

“Are you ready to order or do you need a few minutes?” The waitress asked, pen to pad.

Viktor opened his mouth to ask for a bit longer, but Katsuki just had to place his order. “I’ll have the Veggie Sizzlin’ Skillet, please.”

The waitress nodded, writing and turning to Viktor. “And you, sir?”

Viktor lifted the menu, trying to act like he was finding the item he wanted. He picked the first one. “The Wild Alaska Salmon, please.”

The waitress finished writing down their orders and took the menus from them. She thanked them and left.

The rest of their time there was silent. Katsuki picked at his napkin and sipped his lemonade. Viktor tapped on his phone, checking in with Mila and Georgi. He had asked Mila not to tell anyone about what he was doing, and she seemed to keep her word.

She also was taking care of the Italians, keeping them at bay so they didn’t storm Detroit or something. That was good. Viktor didn’t need the extra stress at the moment.

The two men finished their meal as quickly as they could. Viktor gave the waitress his card, ignoring Katsuki’s attempts to do the same. Bill paid, the two left. Viktor took the driver’s side and Katsuki took the passenger.

Once the agent was buckled, Viktor began the long drive to Chicago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy this chapter ended up longer than I expected, hope you enjoyed it! This isn't edited yet so please feel free to point out any mistakes
> 
> I have my AP history exam in two days I'm so nervous
> 
> Next chapter should be out either Friday or Saturday


	4. Chapter 4 - Day 1 Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phichit got home around seven that evening. The apartment was dark when he walked in. He took a deep breath and kicked off his shoes. The apartment was so silent, Phichit swore he could hear the sounds of his hamsters scattering around their cage.
> 
> “Yuuri?” he called out, walking around the dark room. He flicked on a light. The kitchen was empty. The living room was empty. The shower wasn’t running.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is appreciated

Phichit’s phone alarm rang, startling the man awake. He grumbled nonsense and stuck an arm out from under his blankets, fumbling for the device. He slithered the phone under the blankets so he could turn it off.

His head popped out from the warmth. He let his eyes wander around the room before landing on his hamster cage. The hamsters squeaked and ran around their cage. Phichit gave a small smile and stood up, letting the blanket drop onto the bed.

He walked over to his hamsters and dropped into a crouch to watch them. A few of them stopped what they were doing and watched him back. He stuck a finger through the bars and pet their heads.

He went through his routine of feeding them and making sure they had enough water. After spending a few minutes with them, he got changed into his uniform.

He looked towards his door. He hadn’t heard anything from Yuuri’s room across the hall. He usually got up around the same time.

Once dressed, he made his way over to his roommate’s room. He knocked before opening it. There was no sign of Yuuri and there was no noise coming from the kitchen.

Phichit frowned. Maybe he went in early. He tended to do that with complicated cases. Phichit sent off a text asking if he had left early and was about to go to the kitchen when he heard a familiar text tone.

Phichit scrambled to Yuuri’s bed, reaching across and grabbing the phone. He stared at it. Yuuri wouldn’t just forget his phone. Sure, he wasn’t addicted to it like Phichit, but he still wouldn’t leave it behind.

Yuuri wasn’t a morning person, Phichit reasoned with himself. He was just in a hurry and forgot it, no matter how weird it sounded. Back when they were in the Quantico Academy Phichit occasionally had to remind Yuuri not to leave his phone behind.

But that stopped after the third reminder and hadn’t happened since.

Phichit took several deep breaths before shoving the phone into his pocket. He’d just give it to Yuuri when he got there. Leaving his roommates bedroom, he wandered into the kitchen. He looked through the fridge and cabinets in search of something for breakfast.

Normally Yuuri would make breakfast, despite not being a morning person. He’d be up and about in the kitchen, still struggling to keep his eyes open as he made eggs or poured cereal or even made the occasional rice cooker pancake.

And Phichit, being one of the younger agents at 23, was still slightly running on college eating habits. So he just grabbed a slice of bread and popped it in the toaster. While it toasted, Phichit slid his shoes on, bending down to tie them. The toast popped up and Phichit grabbed it. He inhaled sharply as the toast burned his fingers. He took a bite and fought through the pain.

Toast still in his mouth, he took his keys from the small bowl they kept on the counter and headed out the door. He took another bite as he locked up.

As he walked down the hall, he couldn’t help but wonder about Yuuri. Sure, maybe the case had been getting to him. Maybe he did go in early. That’s the most logical reason. But why hadn’t Phichit woken up? Yuuri may be good out in the field, but at home he can be somewhat scatterbrained. Meal prepping tends to be quite loud with him. Whether it’s washing dishes or just grabbing them from their place, there was always some kind of noise in the kitchen.

And Phichit isn’t a light sleeper, especially near the morning.

There was really something wrong with the whole situation, but he just couldn’t figure it out.

The drive to the bureau wasn’t anything interesting, not without Yuuri. The two usually discussed their current case, or the most recent movie or show, and Phichit loved talking about whatever weird dream he had that night.

Not the case today.

Phichit parked his car in their usual spot. He stared at it as he shut the car door and locked the vehicle. It looked so weird there. They tended to take Yuuri’s car in the morning as it was usually parked closer to the apartment complex.

Phichit shrugged it off, and made his way into the building. His first stop would be to see Ciao Ciao. He passed by the other agents, nodding and saying hello to the ones that didn’t look dead inside. He stopped outside Celestino’s door, and could hear him talking to someone. So he just knocked and waited.

“Just a moment!” Celestino called out. Phichit stuck his hand into his pants pocket, feeling Yuuri’s phone. “Alright, you can come in now.”

Phichit opened the door. “Good morning, Ciao Ciao!” he said, poking his head through the door. “Just wanted to ask if you’ve seen Yuuri?”

The man shook his head. “I’m afraid not. Is everything okay?”

Phichit shrugged. “He forgot his phone. Must’ve gone in early, I’m sure he’s fine,” he lied. Maybe. He wasn’t honestly sure.

Celestino nodded, telling him that he’d keep an eye out if he saw Yuuri. Phichit bid him a goodbye and made his way over to his desk. Other agents chatted around him, trying to get in any last minute news and gossip before they started their day. Normally Phichit would jump right in, talking about the latest celebrity scandal and listening to the lady who sat closest to him gush about her children. Sometimes he’d drag Yuuri in, and Leo would walk by and they’d end up talking about animals or figure skating. Then around eight, Celestino would walk around and tell everyone to start their work.

But with Yuuri’s maybe strange disappearance and the events of yesterday, Phichit was not in the mood for small talk.

The other agents must have figured that out as they moved their talk to Molly’s desk on the other side of the room. Phichit took a seat in his chair and turned on his computer. He eyed the short stack of reports he still had to file, debating on which task was more important.

Turning away from the paper, he figured he’d just file them during lunch. He’d probably get takeout from somewhere nearby and bring it to Yuuri’s office. Maybe that new Chinese place that opened up a few weeks ago.

But before Phichit could even begin to think of lunch, he had to find out this one thing. Who was the man they met yesterday? On the way to the bureau yesterday, Phichit had looked all over the box, trying to find any kind of identification. He even removed those pictures from their frames in order to find some kind of name.

While he didn’t find the man’s name, he did find a letter addressed to a girl on the back of one of the photos. So that was the best lead.

The only problem was that he wasn’t given a last name. Just the name Anya. When he typed that name into the database, Phichit felt himself pale and deflate. Just over 13,000 people popped up. He sighed and readied himself to spend the next few hours going through each name and picture, trying to match the one he had.

Phichit glanced over at his clock, groaning as he saw it was already an hour past his lunch break. He leaned forward and put his head in his arms. Someone chuckled.

“Tough day, huh?”

Phichit looked up and saw one of their newest agents peering over his desk. Phichit nodded. “You have no idea how hard it is to find someone just from their first name.”

The woman sucked in a breath. “Yikes.” She shifted the stack of papers in her arms. “I wish you luck.” Sending a small smile towards the man, she walked away.

Phichit sat up and resumed his clicking. He rested his head in his palm. It seemed like each picture got farther away from the in his hand. He was about to give up and take his break when he found her.

She looked a little younger, but it was the same hair, similar face shape, and it looked like the same makeup style. Even if it wasn’t her, it was their best guess.

Phichit scribbled down the information. Her name was Anya Mikhailova, her address was in Wyoming. He even wrote down her phone number just in case. Picking up the post-it note, Phichit made a dash to Yuuri’s office.

He didn’t even bother knocking, just opened the door and walked in. “Yuuri, I think I have a lead for-” Phichit stopped. The office was empty.

He walked around to Yuuri’s chair. None of the papers looked disturbed, his chair was cold. The same dread from that morning pooled in Phichit’s stomach again. Sure, Yuuri liked his space to be tidy, but it seemed like nothing had been moved at all.

Phichit swallowed and shook the feeling away. Yuuri was probably taking lunch. Without telling Phichit. Besides, Phichit still had a job to do, with or without his partner.

So, instead of telling Yuuri about the recent developments, he’d go to Leo.

He found the man walking back into the bureau, sliding his phone into his pocket. “Leo!” Phichit called out.

Leo looked over. “What’s up?”

“I have some developments with the box.”

“Nice, does Yuuri know?”

Phichit faltered. “He’s not here.”

Leo frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, he’s not here. I don’t think he’s been here all day. Anyway, I need you to buy some plane tickets. We’re going to Wyoming. I’ll fill you in at my desk.”

Leo nodded, following the fellow agent. Phichit sat down, and Leo knelt down. Leo was also helping with the case, but being the technical analyst he tended to stay behind at the bureau while Yuuri and Phichit were out on the field.

Phichit set down his post-it note and started to explain what happened and what he found. Leo nodded along, pulling his phone out halfway to search for plane tickets.

“How soon do you need those?” Leo asked, scrolling down the screen.

“Tomorrow would be great, but if it’s a few days it’s fine.” Phichit leaned back in his chair and stretched. “Can you let Celestino know? I haven’t taken my lunch break yet and I’m starving.”

“Yeah, sure,” Leo waved him off, standing up and walking away, still looking at his phone.

Phichit grinned and stood up. He made his way out of the building and walked down the sidewalk. He was in the mood for Chinese.

Phichit got home around seven that evening. The apartment was dark when he walked in. He took a deep breath and kicked off his shoes. The apartment was so silent, Phichit swore he could hear the sounds of his hamsters scattering around their cage.

“Yuuri?” he called out, walking around the dark room. He flicked on a light. The kitchen was empty. The living room was empty. The shower wasn’t running. Phichit wandered down the hall. He entered his bedroom to take care of his hamsters.

He made sure their water was filled and checked their food tray, seeing a few pellets still inside. Then Phichit got out of his uniform. He lay it on the bed, intending to put it in the washing machine later that night. He dressed in sweatpants and a short-sleeved shirt.

Then he went to Yuuri’s room. He stopped outside the door. Lifting a fist, he knocked three times. Nothing. Not even the sound of shuffling around on the bed. Phichit swallowed and opened the door, letting the light into the dark room.

He turned on the light. Yuuri wasn’t in his bed. He wasn’t standing in the room.

Yuuri wasn’t home.

Phichit saw no sign of a struggle, but he searched the room anyway. He found multiple clothes missing, a suitcase was gone, his hidden guns were gone as well.

Phichit sat on the bed, holding Yuuri’s phone in his hands. He didn’t want to accept it. He couldn’t.

He found himself dialing Celestino before he realized it.

“Yuuri?” Celestino asked. Right, Phichit had used Yuuri’s phone.

“Ciao Ciao,” Phichit breathed out, gripping the phone. “I think Yuuri’s missing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man this chapter took so long to write. I ended up researching so much and not using any of it. This is unedited, feel free to point out any mistakes you find. Also I don't believe Anya was given a last name in the show, or maybe she was and I just couldn't find it. So I gave her a random last name.
> 
> I'm sure you guys have heard about what's happening in the United States. If you're protesting, please be safe. Bring masks, goggles, milk for tear gas. Please please stay safe. I wish I could join a protest but I know my parents wouldn't let me. If you're unable to protest too, there's a lot of petitions you can sign, a lot of places you can donate to.


	5. Chapter 5 - Day 2 Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is appreciated

Yuuri woke up to a quiet room. He sat up and raised his arms above his head, groaning as he stretched. He blinked a few times before leaning over to grab his glasses. Once they were on, he looked over towards Nikiforov’s bed, seeing it empty and unkept.

Panic surged through Yuuri. He reached under his bed and pulled out his suitcase. He searched through it and grabbed one of his guns. He double checked that the safety was on just in case. He stood up and walked around the room, heading toward the small bathroom. Looking at the floor, he didn’t see the light on. Or hear the shower running.

Nikiforov wasn’t in the room.

Fuck.

That was his plan, wasn’t it? Leave Yuuri stranded in a strange city with no way to contact anyone? So he couldn’t report back and so Viktor could roam free? Was there even someone missing?

Yuuri moved back to his bed and sat down, letting the gun drop from his hands. It softly landed on the mattress. He placed his face in his hands, exhaling deeply. How could he have been so stupid?

The sound of the motel door slamming shut shook him out of his thoughts. Yuuri jolted and his head snapped up, staring at the intruder.

It was Nikiforov. He stood by the door, holding a takeout bag. He stared at Yuuri.

“Where were you?” Yuuri asked after the shock wore off.

Nikiforov held up the bag. “Getting breakfast?” He moved over to the small table between the two beds, setting the bag down. “I wasn’t sure what you wanted so I just got us both omelets.” He took out two boxes and set them down. “You’re not allergic to anything, are you?”

Nikiforov looked over when he got no response. “What?”

“You didn’t think to leave a note?” Yuuri asked, standing up. “Or better yet, wake me up and bring me with you?”

“It wasn’t even a block away.” Nikiforov jerked his thumb towards the door.

Yuuri sighed, grabbing the container that Nikiforov handed him. It was still warm. He sat back down on his bed. He rested the container on his thighs. Nikiforov did the same, but he began eating.

“You really see no problem with anything you did?” Yuuri asked after the criminal put his first bite in his mouth.

Nikiforov chewed, clearly annoyed that someone asked him a question while he ate. “Why is there a problem with getting breakfast?” he asked after swallowing. “Don’t tell me that omelets don’t fit into your diet.”

Yuuri threw his hands up. “This has nothing to do with omelets.” How could he not realize? “If I had done it, what would you have thought?”

It took him a minute to process what Yuuri had said. “Ah. Yes, I suppose I would have initially thought you ran. However after seeing your suitcase and realizing the hour, I would come to the conclusion that you were hungry. This motel doesn’t do breakfast, after all.”

“But what if I found a phone?”

Nikiforov sighed and tilted his head back. “Honestly, Yuuri, it sounds like you’re projecting your worries onto me.” He glanced down, and at Yuuri’s expression he continued. “Of course I know your name. You think I don’t keep up-to-date with the agents in Detroit?”

Yuuri frowned. He was at a loss for words, so he just opened up his container and began eating. As he chewed, he tried to think of what to say to that. It didn’t sit right with him. “How do you know that?” he finally asked.

Nikiforov leaned back, his hands holding him up. “Well it is public knowledge, with how many cases you’ve solved. I may be a man of many crimes, but stalking isn’t one of them.”

“How do you know where I live, then?” Yuuri countered.

Nikiforov had the audacity to appear sheepish. “Ah. Guess it is.” He set his already empty container next to him and clapped his hands, standing up. “Anyway, we should get going. San Francisco is still a long ways away.”

Yuuri blinked at the sudden change in tone. He eyed the open suitcase. He didn’t have much packing to do, just shove in his clothes from yesterday and he was done. So he took his time eating. He had a feeling Nikiforov wouldn’t let them stop for lunch until much later since they left so late yesterday.

By the time Nikiforov had packed and tidied up the room, Yuuri had eaten his last bite. Nikiforov eyed him, visibly annoyed. Yuuri stood up, stretching the knots out of his back. He tossed his container in the nearby trash can and picked up his suitcase, setting it on the bed. He didn’t bother folding or rolling the clothes scattered on the floor. He just shoved them in after taking out a new shirt.

He quickly took off his sleep shirt and slid on the t-shirt.The sleep shirt got the same treatment as the others. He zipped up the suitcase and hauled it off the bed, holding onto the now extended handle.

“Ready?” he asked Nikiforov, who rolled his eyes and ushered him to the door.

Yuuri barely had time to slip his shoes on before the door opened and he was roughly shoved out. “I know you’re worried about whoever we’re trying to find, but do you really have to shove me every chance you get?” he spat, looking over his shoulder.

Nikiforov turned to shut the door. “Sorry.”

Yuuri had a hard time believing it, but for some reason the taller man sounded sincere. He just huffed and followed the man to the car.

Nikiforov turned towards Yuuri after putting his bag into the back seat. “I’m trusting you to stay here while I return the key.” Without waiting for a response, he left.

Yuuri started at the car; it was unlocked, he could make a run for it. He shook his head. Nikiforov took the keys. He’d have to hot-wire it, and he had no idea how to do that. Instead Yuuri just set his suitcase next to the other and, after slamming the door, walked over to the passenger’s side and slid in.

He rested his head against the window. In the reflection, he saw Nikiforov approaching. He turned his head towards him as the man got into the driver’s side. No words were said as Nikiforov started the car.

Yuuri just resumed his place with his head on the window.

The next time they spoke it was nearing 2 in the afternoon. The omelet Yuuri ate hadn’t really kept him full, and around 1 he had started to get hungry again. He waited until Nikiforov spoke about food, though. The farther they drove the sooner Yuuri got home.

“Where do you want to eat?” Nikiforov asked, turning on his turn signal and moving into the right lane.

Yuuri looked at the signs as they passed by. “There’s a McDonald’s nearby.” He saw Nikiforov grimace in the corner of his eye.

“I suppose,” Nikiforov complained, “if there’s nothing else.”

Yuuri rolled his eyes at the man’s behavior, but didn’t say anything. He recalled Nikiforov being hesitant to approach the Denny’s the day before. Being a mafia leader he must have access to as much money as one could dream. No wonder he was acting that way; why settle for fast food when you could go to a five-star restaurant instead?

Well, he’d better get used to it. And fast.

Speaking of money, if Yuuri didn’t get a raise after this whole ordeal he’d be furious. Well, not furious. But he’d definitely make some noise about it. Being dragged across the country with a criminal and not being able to do anything about it wasn’t in the job description.

“You’re scowling.”

Yuuri blinked, his thoughts halting. He looked over at Nikiforov. “Excuse me?”

“You’re scowling,” the man repeated. “Is there something on your mind?”

Yuuri’s eyebrows furrowed. “What does it matter to you?”

Nikiforov shrugged. “Nothing.” He turned left. “Just making conversation. Anyway, we’re here.”

The car hardly had time to stop before Yuuri got out. He patted his pocket, making sure he had his wallet. Walking next to Nikiforov, he tried to get a glance at his watch. The man’s hand was buried too deep into his pocket for Yuuri to get a good glimpse.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been gone, but he knew someone at least had to have noticed his presence lacking. Maybe reports have already been issued. His face could be plastered on the news and the papers. If someone recognized him, they’d help.

The two walked into the Mcdonald’s. Some of the tables were full, and there were only two people in line. They stood behind a family and chose their meals.

The cashier looked up from the register as they approached. “Hello!” she greeted, a big smile on her face. “What can I get you?”

Nikiforov ordered for them. “Can we get a Quarter Pounder meal and a 10 piece McNugget meal?”

The lady nodded, putting in their order. “Would you like sauce for the nuggets?” Nikiforov looked at Yuuri.

“No, thank you,” Yuuri answered.

When she finished putting in their order, she brought out two medium-sized cups and placed them on the counter. “That’ll be $11.38, please.”

Yuuri already had his wallet out before Nikiforov could get his cash. “Let me pay. Please.”

Nikiforov narrowed his eyes, glancing down at the wallet. “But you-”

Yuuri placed a hand on the man’s chest, attempting to appear like he was pleading and not glaring him into submission. “You already got breakfast, at least let me get lunch.” He had a soft smile on, but he knew Nikiforov saw the threats hidden in his stare.

Nikiforov opened his mouth, as if to snap back. Yuuri slightly pushed him back, daring him to say anything that wouldn’t look suspicious. He eventually sighed and nodded. “I’ll get the drinks then. Your regular?”

Yuuri nodded, turning back towards the cashier who was now staring wide-eyed. He smiled apologetically. “Sorry about that, he’s always paying for everything and I just want to return the favor.”

He swiped his card.

“I totally understand,” the cashier said, no longer in shock. “My boyfriend gets like that sometimes. Maybe you should surprise him with a gift?” She held out a mini stand with a number. “Would you like a receipt?”

Yuuri shook his head, taking the number. “I’ll take that gift idea into consideration, though.”

Yuuri walked over to the drink station, where Nikiforov was putting a cap on his cup. Yuuri pointed to the one on his left and lifted an eyebrow. The Russian nodded. Yuuri picked it up and sipped. Whatever it was, he was glad it was diet. There was no way he was drinking a regular soda with his lunch.

“I know what you were doing,” Nikiforov said suddenly, pausing to sip his own drink.

Yuuri raised his eyebrows. “And what was that?”

“If the agents back in Detroit are doing their job, then they’ll see you just made a payment.”

Yuuri smirked and leaned against the drink counter, ignoring how sticky it’ll make his clothes. “Exactly.” Deciding to be cocky, he kept eye contact with Nikiforov as he took another sip. He looked around, realizing they were still in a public place. They shouldn’t be talking about a kidnapping situation so openly. “Let’s find a booth.”

He turned and left, leaving Nikiforov alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Viktor's trying to bond but Yuuri isn't letting him
> 
> I think it's safe to say I've abandoned my uploading schedule. Sorry for leaving y'all for so long, this chapter just didn't want to be written
> 
> The next chapter brings us back to Phichit and his adventure, which I'm excited to write


	6. Chapter 6 - Day 2 Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mari was quiet as she absorbed the information. Phichit could hear her speak to her parents. Hiroko immediately burst into tears. Phichit assumed Toshiya was hugging her, as her voice became muffled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is appreciated
> 
> I went back and edited the chapters titles, nothing major but I felt like it fit better than what I was doing before. Not every chapter is going to have a part 1 and part 2, just the ones where Phichit's doing stuff too. If things go as planned, there should be only one more Phichit centered chapter

Phichit wandered around the grocery store, looking at the various shelves around him. He lightly gripped the small list in his hand and held a basket in the other. It was nearly full and he was beginning to think he should have grabbed a cart instead.

Normally Yuuri was the one to do the shopping while Phichit cleaned the apartment. It was a fair trade off; Yuuri cooked and shopped, Phichit cleaned and did laundry, and they both chipped in for the rent.

But Yuuri wasn’t there. So Phichit had to look through the kitchen and hallway closets and see what they needed. Phichit had discovered a newfound appreciation for his best friend. Sure, the two went shopping occasionally but Phichit never had to explore their home to find what they were out of. He just added what he wanted to the list when Yuuri wasn’t looking. Every time Yuuri would look annoyed but ended up getting whatever was on it anyway.

Phichit had decided to opt out of getting eggs or milk as he had a flight in a few hours. He and Leo were heading to Cheyenne, Wyoming to follow their lead.

But first he had a few things to buy. Hamster food was among them. He was running low and he couldn’t have his adorable babies go hungry while he was gone.

The other things were surveillance cameras. There was no way he was leaving without making sure the house was secure. Maybe Yuuri’s kidnapper would come back, and then they’d know who it was.

Whatever the outcome, Phichit wanted to be safe.

He walked through the technology section, carefully scanning the shelves. He had a specific brand in mind. He wanted four cameras; one for the porch, one for the front door, and the other two for the windows in their bedrooms.

Honestly, one of the first things they should have done after becoming agents was get security cameras. They just never thought they would need them.

Phichit’s eyes landed on the brand he wanted. He picked up two packs, sputtering at the price. Over $1,000? Phichit read over the box. Night vision, wireless, audio and video. It would be worth it in the end.

Yuuri was paying him back, though.

Putting the cameras in the basket, he continued his shopping.

It hadn’t taken long to finish, and soon he was back in the apartment. All he had to do was wait for Leo to show up and they’d head to the airport. While he waited, he opened up the boxes for the cameras and read the instructions. Soon, the apartment was thoroughly guarded.

Phichit looked down at his phone. He had debated whether or not he did this. If he did, he’d have to do it now. It would be too late after the flight and he’d be busy for the next few days.

They had a right to know.

Taking a seat on the couch, Phichit clicked the contact.

It rang.

“Phichit?”

Phichit’s heart lurched. “Hey, Mari.” His voice trembled. He could tell she heard it.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, the sounds of objects shifting could be heard in the background.

“Is everyone busy?”

There was a pause. “No, it’s slow right now.”

“Put me on speaker and go get your parents.”

There was another pause, then more shifting. Hushed Japanese echoed close by. Phichit knew Yuuri’s parents’ English wasn’t the best, but hopefully they’d be able to understand. Mari would translate either way.

“Alright, they’re here,” Mari said. “Now what’s going on?”

Phichit took a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut. “Yuuri’s missing.”

Immediately, Phichit heard the confused Japanese from the parents. Mari spoke to them briefly.

“What do you mean he’s missing?”

Phichit swallowed. “He disappeared three days ago. He was reported missing a day after.” He told her about the state of his bedroom, the missing clothes and guns. How his phone had remained on his bed. He wasn’t able to say much; there wasn’t much he could say either. They had no lead, although Phichit was suspecting the Russians. He couldn’t say that though, not without proof. And he didn’t think he legally could.

Mari was quiet as she absorbed the information. Phichit could hear her speak to her parents. Hiroko immediately burst into tears. Phichit assumed Toshiya was hugging her, as her voice became muffled.

He let them go on for as long as he could, but glancing at the clock showed that he had to leave soon.

“I hate doing this after bad news, but I really have to go now,” he whispered.

“It’s okay,” Mari assured. “I’ll take care of them. Thanks, Phichit.”

She hung up.

Phichit sighed heavily, leaning back on the couch. His chest felt weighed down. He had never had to make a call like that. Normally the parents or partner of the missing person already knew, hence the report. He didn’t think he’d get the sound of Hiroko’s devastated sobs out of his head.

He didn’t have time to dwell on it, however. Leo was on his way and they needed to leave as fast as possible. He got up from the couch and went to his room. He spent the last remaining minutes of free time cooing and petting his hamsters, letting them run all over him.

His phone went off, and that was his sign to leave. He put each hamster back into their cage, and grabbed his suitcase from his bed. They weren’t planning on staying in Wyoming long, just two days. One day to get whatever information they could from Anya Mikhailova, another day to write a report and then fly back.

He double checked the lock. He went on his phone to make sure the cameras were working properly. Seeing no errors, he left the apartment. Leo’s car was waiting out front, not even bothering with a parking space.

Phichit hopped into the passenger side after putting his suitcase in the trunk with Leo’s.

“Hey, man,” Leo greeted, already driving without waiting for Phichit to get buckled. “You ready?”

Once fully buckled, Phichit replied, “If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be here.”

Leo nodded. The two drifted into silence. Phichit could see the man practically buzzing with excitement. Phichit understood why; Leo was rarely ever on scene for anything. Being one of the younger agents, and the tech analysis guy it wasn’t hard to see why. They needed the tech people to stay behind in case they needed more information. The only time they really did field work was when they needed more agents than usual.

Phichit could count on one hand the amount of times he and Leo shared a field scene.

Phichit leaned his head back on the seat, looking up at the roof.

“You okay?” Leo asked over the radio.

Phichit sighed. “I told Yuuri’s family about what happened.”

Leo inhaled sharply. “I can’t imagine how that went.”

“The only thing we can do is get him back.”

The flight to Wyoming was only three hours, and yet Phichit was exhausted. He never was able to sleep on planes. The small fear liked to linger and make an appearance whenever turbulence occured. To counter that, Phichit just blasted his music with headphones.

Leo shook him the moment the plane landed and they could get up. The airport was pretty small, so it was easy to navigate. It was also a weekday, so there weren't a lot of people wandering around. And nobody goes to Wyoming anyway.

They got an Uber, and got to their motel quickly. They were on the first floor, so they didn’t have to worry about stairs. Phichit wasn’t sure he had the energy to walk up stairs no matter how few there were. He just wanted to collapse on a bed and take a nap.

So of course that was what he did. Until Leo pushed his shoulder after five minutes.

Phichit lifted his face up. “What?”

Leo sat on his bed, lifting up his suitcase. “We aren’t here for fun, Phich.”

The Thai man grumbled under his breath, but moved to sit up. If they didn’t get coffee on their way, he’d probably end up committing murder.

“You have the list of questions?” Phichit asked, attempting to rub the sleep away from his eyes.

Leo nodded. “You have the picture?”

“In the suitcase,” he answered, pointing vaguely to where he left it by the door. “You think we should rent a car so we don’t have to get so many Ubers?”

Leo thought it over, staring at the ground. Eventually he met Phichit’s eyes. “Good plan. I don’t think I want to pay for that many Ubers. Do you know where the nearest dealer is?”

Phichit whipped out his phone, shaking it as he said, “That’s what the power of the internet is for.”

Turned out there wasn’t a place too far from their motel, so they could just walk. The salesman was pleased to see them, which Phichit wouldn’t deny was obvious. Wyoming was essentially the middle of nowhere of the United States.

They weren’t too picky about the car, just as long as it didn’t break down in the middle of the road. The two shared a laugh at the idea of a cop stopping by to see what the issue was only to see FBI agents stranded.

Normally they would have gone to the nearest field office, but there was only on in the entire state and it was located in Denver. They weren’t about to drive an hour just to get an FBI car. They weren’t doing a raid either, so they felt no need.

They ended up settling on a black hatchback. After paying the rent for two days, the two agents were on their way. Phichit drove that time, while Leo pulled up the GPS on his phone. He typed in the address and set the device down.

There wasn’t much conversation between the two; Phichit focusing on the directions and Leo looking like he was trying to catch some sleep. Unfortunately for him, the address wasn’t far from where they were. They ended up getting there in twenty minutes.

Phichit rolled to a stop at the corner, making sure to stay out of the way of the fire hydrant. He shook his partner awake. The younger man jerked and gasped, eyes blinking rapidly. Phichit let Leo come to his senses before getting out of the car.

Phichit observed the property. There was a nice garden by the steps leading up to the porch. He saw no cars in the driveway, so either nobody was home or they were just in the closed garage.

Leo had beaten Phichit to the front door and had rung the doorbell. Phichit jogged up to him and stood by his side. There was faint shuffling heard on the other side and a loud voice talking in a different language.

The door opened, revealing a woman with long, dark brown hair. “Can I help you?” she asked in heavily accented English.

Phichit fished out his badge, showing it to her briefly as Leo did the same. “Good afternoon, ma’am,” he put his badge away, “I’m agent Chulanont and this is agent De La Iglesia. Are you Anya Mikhailova?”

The woman stared at them, eyes flickering back and forth between them. “Yes,” she answered slowly.

Phichit pulled out the folded up photo from his pocket and handed it to her. She studied the picture, eyes widening a fraction. “Do you know that man?”

She nodded, handing back the photo.

“Do you mind if we ask you some questions?” Leo asked.

Not saying anything, she stepped to the side, letting the two agents into her home. She shut the door behind them and led them to the living room. She sat on a chair while they took the couch.

“What’s this about?” she asked, breaking the silence.

“We have reason to believe that the man in the photo is connected to a case we have going on,” Phichit explained, adjusting his position on the couch. “Can you tell us his name and how you know him?”

Leo pulled out his notepad as Anya began explaining. “His name is Georgi Popovich.” She paused to spell the last name. “He’s my ex.”

Leo looked up when he finished writing. “Does he have any ties to Viktor Nikiforov or the Russian mafia?”

She sighed, closing her eyes and muttering something in Russian. “Yes. He’s Viktor’s second in command.”

The two agents shared a look. Phichit looked back at the woman, silently urging her to continue.

“There really isn’t much I know,” she said. “I wasn’t interested in being around mafia business. It took him repeatedly coming home with gunshots and knife wounds for me to leave. I do know that he and Viktor were childhood friends back home.”

Phichit nodded. “Do you happen to know Georgi’s address?”

Anya huffed. “It was many years ago, I’m not sure it’s the same one.” She rattled off an address in Detroit, which Leo gladly scribbled down.

Phichit leaned over to look at his partner’s notes and promptly leaned back. Leo’s handwriting reminded him of a child. It looked so rushed, but if Leo could read it then there wasn’t a problem. He was going to be the one to look into it, anyway.

“Thank you, Ms. Mikhailova,” Phichit said, motioning for Leo to stand up. “Your cooperation is appreciated.”

The woman shrugged, and showed them to the door.

“Oh!” Phichit turned around and took the picture out. “Would you like the picture back?”

Anya laughed. “Oh, no,” she assured, “I don’t want to be reminded of that man again. The only good that picture would do is be a napkin.”

Phichit was taken aback at her response. Georgi Popovich hadn’t been abusive, had he? They’d have a whole other case open if that was it. Perhaps she was just bitter towards him; she did seem rather annoyed than fearful.

The man nodded, thanking her again. The two agents said goodbye, and they left.

As they were walking back to the car, Leo’s phone rang.

He fished it out of his pocket and held it up to his ear. “Hello?” His expression turned serious. “Yes, we just finished up with Anya Mikhailova and were planning on leaving tomorrow.” Leo stopped walking, waiting just outside of the passenger door.

Phichit decided to start up the vehicle while Leo finished the call. He snatched the notepad from Leo’s hand and looked at it. Taking out his phone, he did a quick search on Georgi Popovich. A Facebook page came up, but after scrolling through it there wasn’t much. Some status updates from a few years ago, seemingly tied to Anya, and then a bunch of sad quotes. That must have been the break up.

He kept the tab open, but turned off his phone when Leo got in the car.

“Who was that?”

Leo sighed. “Celestino. They have a lead on Yuuri.” Phichit’s head snapped over to him, his eyes gone wide. “He’s asking us to fly to Des Moines, Iowa. Apparently his credit card was charged there.”

Phichit nodded, starting to drive towards their motel. “You know what to do then.”

Leo nodded and began looking at plane tickets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took longer than expected. I would've had this chapter done sooner, but then I started watching bnha and then I got fic ideas so I'm writing those out too (it's mainly villain Deku stuff god I love villain Deku stuff so much it's not even funny and I'd love fic recs)
> 
> I start school on Monday, so I have no idea when the next chapter will be ready. Hopefully the wait won't be as long, but hey senior year kicks everyone's ass so who knows

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back on my bullshit y'all. I've been spending this entire quarantine reading and writing mafia AUs. There is a disappointing lack of mafia fics in this fandom (trust me, I went through the tag lmao) and I wanted to make my own (I'm working on 2 more help me I have a problem)
> 
> I have a rough estimate of how many chapters there will be but that's subject to change. I'm aiming for 13 but ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


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